


Women's Weapons

by Piinutbutter



Category: Princess Principal (Anime)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-09 16:36:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15271695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piinutbutter/pseuds/Piinutbutter
Summary: Dorothy uses her feminine charms a little too well. Does she even know how crazy she's driving her impressionable young ally?(Yes. Yes she does.)





	Women's Weapons

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rubylily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubylily/gifts).



“Boo.”

Beatrice startled awake, and was enthusiastically greeted by a telescope whacking her on the head. The telescope she was supposed to be keeping an eye on, until she’d fallen asleep on the job. Wide-eyed with embarrassment, she fixed the device back into place and shot an apologetic glance to Dorothy, who’d woken her in the first place.

“Poor Beatrice,” Dorothy cooed, patting the top of her head. “You’re not used to keeping watch for long hours, are you?”

Beatrice shook her head. “Ah, no. Princess never had me do this kind of thing.” Not to mention, school had been keeping her awake for long hours of study just to pass her exams. She would never understand how her princess could pour so much energy into her schoolwork and come out of it all with a smile. Beatrice stretched her back and planted her face in front of the telescope lens once more, but Dorothy rested a hand on her shoulder.

“You’ll only doze off again if you keep going without any energy in you. Come on, I bought food while I was out.”

The elder spy pulled a paper bag from behind her back, the movement sending a whiff of delicious scents in Beatrice’s direction. Her mouth watered.

“Are - are you sure?” she asked, hands nervously clutching the folds of her dress. “I don’t want to get distracted and miss something...”

Before Beatrice could finish, Dorothy was dragging a chair from the other side of their rented hotel room. She parked it next to Beatrice’s chair and sat down. Then she scooted towards the girl, bumping Beatrice with her hip until Beatrice moved her own chair to the side.

“There!” Dorothy announced, reaching into her bag and withdrawing a bottle of something mysterious and alcoholic along with the food she’d offered. “Now we can look out together.”

Beatrice enjoyed the meal Dorothy had procured; Dorothy’d even gotten a slice of Beatrice’s favorite cake! (Beatrice hadn't thought anyone would notice a detail as insignificant as the type of cake she always reached for, but she should have expected better from a master spy.) Beatrice did, however, politely turn down the offered alcohol. She had to admit she was curious about the stuff, just from seeing Dorothy drink it all the time, but one sniff of the bottle and she almost retched. That made the decision for her.

The stakeout was a lot more pleasant from then on. It was a boring job in the first place. They were taking note of the clients that visited a suspected smuggler, and none of the clients were particularly sneaky about their illegal activities. Beatrice supposed it was better to be bored than to be in mortal danger, but the situation was vastly improved by Dorothy being at her side. They were sitting close enough that their thighs were touching. Compared to Beatrice’s own thin legs, Dorothy’s were so soft, and so incredibly warm. She could get used to this.

Not to mention the _other_ prominent things currently in Beatrice’s peripheral vision. Dorothy was wearing a new dress today. If Beatrice hadn’t known the woman as well as she had, she would have thought Dorothy’d gotten a size too small by accident, the way it clung to her chest.

Despite associating with spies day in and day out, Beatrice had a tendency to overestimate how sneaky she was being. She about died inside when Dorothy gripped her cleavage with both hands and gave her a grin.

“Distracting, aren’t they? That’s how I know I’m doing my job.”

Beatrice stuffed a bread roll in her mouth and tried in vain to stop her cheeks from turning bright pink.


End file.
